Page 62 of Don't Forget Me
“Don’t forget smart.”
She lifted a brow and flicked her eyes to the charred quiche.
“Okay, I’ll amend that. Smart in all things outside the kitchen.”
“Kiss me.”
He dipped his head, bringing his lips to her ear for a low growl. “Demanding now, are we?”
“Just do it before you say something else to ruin how adorable I find you right now.”
“I’m not—”
Tired of waiting for him, she cut off his words with a kiss she felt all the way to her toes, a kiss that only confirmed what she’d finally let herself believe.
This was important. They were important. No matter the circumstances, she knew they’d never forget each other, that whatever reality they had to live in, they’d find their way back to each other.
It was the only thought that kept her from tucking her emotions back into the deepest recesses of her mind.
He grinned as he broke away. “So, am I forgiven for ruining breakfast?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
Pressing one more swift kiss to his lips, she ducked away from him, heading for the fridge. “If you let me teach you how to make a true quiche.”
“So much for me taking care of you.” His tone said it was a joke, but the words still ate at her.
Flicking a glance over her shoulder, she gave him a wry smile. “I don’t need you to take care of me, Nick. Please don’t try just because you now know the truth. I’m not any different than I was before. I’m not even sick. It’s been a while now. The scars that haven’t healed are mostly mental.”
He crossed the kitchen, pulling her back against his chest and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry.”
She pulled a Styrofoam carton from the fridge and turned in his arms, shoving the eggs at him. “Don’t be sorry. Just cook.”
“You’ve got it.”
Liz set him to cracking eggs as she prepared the bacon. Her eyes snagged on the book he’d left on the counter before flicking to her room where a manuscript waited for her to finish it.
She couldn’t help the feeling that once there were no more words, when the story was through, she wouldn’t be the person she’d been before.
22
ELIZABETH
Elizabeth had a confession, one she hadn’t told Nick, one she’d refused to admit to herself as she fell deeper and deeper into this relationship.
She couldn’t stop thinking about his wife.
About the fact that she was pregnant, and he hadn’t mentioned it.
She hadn’t even remembered that little tidbit until she woke up this evening from a delicious afternoon nap in a panic, wondering if she was a horrible human being. The tabloids only reported the news after Nick’s accident, not long before her own, and it had barely registered with her. Who cared if a Hollywood starlet was pregnant?
Well, the woman falling in love with said starlet’s husband should.
Sitting out on the deck in an oversized Adirondack chair, Elizabeth curled her legs under her and looked to the stars as she’d done so many times before. Thinking of Sherrie and the baby brought back the overwhelming feelings of her own pregnancy, the eventual departure of the man she was supposed to raise her kids with.
Was Nick any different from Corey? He’d leave the mother of his child on her own. Would he support her? Would he ever know his kid?
